


The Narrow World

by vanessa_cardui



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, Confinement, Cunnilingus, Dubious Consent, F/F, HP: Epilogue Compliant, Magical Sex Toys, Masturbation, Polyamory, Polyjuice Potion, Potions, Rope Bondage, Rough Sex, Temporary Gender or Sex Changes, Veritaserum, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 23:31:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4118713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanessa_cardui/pseuds/vanessa_cardui
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You want your parents to come for you, fine.  I mean, there's an apparation block on London, and there's not a snatcher on the streets who wouldn't be happy with a red Weasley scalp, but they'll probably find you, sooner or later."</p>
<p>"Or?" said Ginny.</p>
<p>Millicent actually looked uncomfortable.  "Or you stay here and do what I want," she said.  "For a week or two.  Then I'll get you out of the apparation wards."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Narrow World

Millicent Bulstrode gave Ginny Weasley sanctuary three times.

The first time was during her third year at Hogwarts. Ginny had been sticking pretty close to Hermione, most of that year, but Hermione was a fourth-year, and she was taking like a thousand classes, despite not having a time turner anymore. So there were times that she wasn't there. And while nobody was supposed to know what had happened with her and Tom the year before, Slytherins didn't like Gryffindors, and she was a Gryffindor.

As she was heading back to the Gryffindor common room after Charms class, a gang of Slytherins spotted her. "It's the little Weasel-ly," said one of them. "And she looks lost."

Ginny turned back around the corner, started running. Hermione would've just headed right through them, head held high, but Ginny wasn't Hermione. "Come back, Weasel-ly," said the boy who'd pointed her out. "We'll show you where you should go."

There was the clatter of shoes on tiles as they ran after her. Around another corner, and she ran into Millicent.

It was like running into a wall; Ginny had been running at full speed, and Millicent couldn't have been ready for her. But it was Ginny who fell down.

Ginny got a brief look at Millicent scowling down at her. Then she picked Ginny up, tossed her into an empty classroom, and followed.

The Slytherins probably didn't see Millicent there, but they did see the door close, and they stopped there, hooting and banging at the door.

Millicent sat down in front of it, and it didn't budge. Ginny knew that it wasn't locked, but the Slytherins probably thought it was. Or warded, or something.

" _Lumos_ ," said Millicent with a flick of her wand.

The classroom lit up. There was the skeleton of something with wings hanging from the ceiling, and a long row of bottles on a shelf, each with something weird inside, floating in greenish liquid.

"Go turn on the lights, Weasley," said Millicent.

"But," said Ginny hesitantly, "They'll see."

“I think they've figured out where you are," said Millicent. The thumping at the door hadn't stopped. "Go turn on the lights."

The lights were gaslights--there was a whoosh of gas, then a crackle, as they flickered to light. It was a bigger room than most of the ones they had classes in, and the seats were in ascending rows, like in the muggle picture house that Dad had taken them to once--they'd gotten thrown out, which wasn't fair, because how were they to know that the pictures couldn't talk back?

There was also a blackboard, covered in tightly-written old calligraphy. Which was pretty much a list of ways in which manticores could be killed.

"Looks like they taught Magical Creatures a little differently back then," said Ginny.

"Sure," said Millicent. "Come back here."

"But I--"

"Look, Weasley. I could get up, and let them come in, if I change my mind. So do what I tell you."

Ginny hadn't wanted to ask the older girl why she'd been protecting her from other Slytherins. And she didn't want her to change her mind about protecting her from other Slytherins, so she came back, next to where Millicent was blocking the door.

"You're pretty," said Millicent. "Even Pansy, who hates you, thinks you're pretty."

Ginny blushed, tried to find something to say, but didn't know what that might be. "Thank you?" she said. "Pansy is--"

"So, let's see it," said Millicent.

Ginny wasn't sure what Millicent meant.

She sighed. "Get undressed, Weasley," she said. "Or I let them in."

Ginny took a step back, then another. She could run, but there was only the one door to the room.

"Look, I'm not going to hurt you," said Millicent. "They will, though, if I let them. I just want to see. Get undressed."

There wasn't anywhere to run in the classroom. Maybe if she hid under the desk, the Slytherins wouldn't see her, and they'd go past her, and she'd be able to run out. Maybe not.

And the gaslights were dimmer than the orbs they used in most of the classrooms, but there was a sort of look in Millicent's eyes. Not angry, or cruel, or even . . . well, not even the way people tended to look at girls, when they wanted them to get undressed. Sort of wistful, maybe?

Ginny took a breath, and then pulled her robe up over her head, and put it on the desk behind her. "There. Okay?"

"Get undressed, Weasley," said Millicent, her jaw set. "Then put your hands on your head."

"But I . . ." there wasn't any point in pretending she didn't know what Millicent wanted. And there wasn't much more point in changing her mind now. Ginny stepped out of her shoes, took off her socks, and then, without thinking about what she was doing, took off her bra and her pants.

"Okay?" said Ginny. "Now I can get--"

"You're too far away," said Millicent. "I can't. . ."

Another deep breath, and the Ginny took three steps closer to Millicent. Four. No closer than that. She could see beads of perspiration on Millicent's round face, she could see the way the bigger girl's fingers clenched around her wand, then relaxed, clenched again. "Is that--" said Ginny.

"Turn around."

Ginny turned around, waited, facing away from Millicent. She could open the door now, if she wanted, she could let them in, and they'd see her like that. What they'd do--

"Back around," said Millicent. She hadn't moved.

Ginny looked at her, waited, the cool air of the classroom raising goosebumps on her skin. "Please--"

"If you're going to keep your hands there, Weasley, use them."

Ginny started, and flushed. They'd drifted down from on top of her head to cover her breasts and . . . lower. "Use them?" she said, hearing herself sounding strangled.

"Like when you're thinking about Potter," said Millicent. "Do it."

"Harry's just a friend! Michael is--"

"Do it," said Millicent.

Ginny did, knowing she was blushing as red as her hair. She had her eyes tightly closed, and she considered faking it, just pretending to get herself off, and maybe Millicent would stop. But she didn't; she was unaccountably wet already, and it wasn't long before she was gasping, then coming, one hand on her pussy, the other tight on her nipple.

She finished on her knees, her legs having lost the strength to hold her up. And when she was done, she opened her eyes, looked at Millicent. "Is that enough?" she said.

Millicent smirked. "They left like ten minutes ago, Weasley. You can go whenever you like."

Ginny stared at her, open mouthed, for just a second, then went and started throwing her clothing on, as quickly as she could. Millicent Bulstrode was . . . yeah, she hadn't really heard any thumping on the door for a while, but she'd been . . .. it wasn't fair! It wasn't-- she pushed past Millicent in a huff. Or tried to; the door was open, but Millicent was still a big girl, and hard to push.

"Could be Parkinson wasn't wrong, for once," said Millicent, as Ginny managed to squirm past her, and through the open door.

And that was more or less the last she'd had anything to do with Ginny for the rest of their time in school. They were on different sides, no question about that. But even though she spent her time with Malfoy and Goyle and the rest of them, none of them ever made any jokes about what she'd done to Ginny in that classroom, and while she didn't show Ginny and favoritism, she also didn't target her any more than any other Gryffindor.

There were some times--when Millicent was alone, or where the other members of the Inquisitorial Squad couldn't see her, that she'd get that sort of lost, wistful look in her eyes when she was watching Ginny, but Ginny didn't say anything about that, and didn't try to talk to her. And she certainly didn't mention that she hadn't been thinking about Harry Potter, that time in that empty classroom.

#

The second time that Millicent Bulstrode gave Ginny sanctuary was after her sixth year at Hogwarts. The war had started in earnest--she'd seen her brother with his ear cursed off, for goodness’ sakes--but she hadn't really taken it seriously enough. She'd gone down to London for shopping, like a child, and when she tried to leave the shop, there were three Death Eaters waiting out front. It was only because she'd spotted them in the shop mirror that she'd gotten away.

Only she couldn't apparate--there was something blocking that, and then they were pushing through the crowds in the shop, and Ginny had run, not knowing where she was going. And then someone had grabbed her, pulled her through a doorway. Bigger than her, stronger, Ginny had tried to pull away for a second, before she realized who it was. Then she followed docilely enough, out through the back rooms of the shop, into the alley behind it.

"Get in, Weasley," said Millicent, opening up the boot of a car that was waiting there.

Ginny hesitated.

"Get in, or I'm leaving without you."

Ginny got in.

It turned out that Millicent was a terrible driver. The car kept making sudden stops, jolting Ginny into the back of the boot, and every time Millicent took a corner, Ginny was tossed into one side or the other. And there was a spare tyre in there, which she kept bumping into, and some sort of metal thing that kept whanging her in the knee.

By the time the car finally stopped, Ginny felt like she'd just had a session dodging bludgers; she was sore everywhere, and there were a couple of bumps that were definitely going to bruise.

Millicent popped the lid of the boot.

"Where did you learn to drive that thing?" asked Ginny. "It's--"

Millicent shrugged. "It's pretty simple," she said. "One pedal for stop, one for go, and turn the wheel to make it turn. Gotta have something when the apparate wards are up, and floos . . ." she shrugged again. "Give me your wand, Weasley."

Ginny hesitated, holding it tight.

"It's that, or you can try to drive home. Could be you'd get there."

"I don't know where I am, Millicent, and I don't know how to work that thing," said Ginny.

"So give me your wand," said Millicent. "Look, we both know that if it came to a duel, you'd win. And I'm not letting you into my house with the wand. So you can try a duel out in the street, or you can leave, either with the car or on foot, or you can give me the wand. But choose, because I'm not going to spend all day talking to the butt of some muggle stink machine like a crazy person."

Ginny chose. She gave Millicent her wand. She took it, weighed it on the back of her hand, then tucked it into her belt. "Put this on," she said, tossing a heavy black coat to Ginny, and as she was struggling into it, a hat as well. They were both sized for Millicent, so she felt lost in them, the sleeves dropping over her hands.

"Follow," said Millicent, and Ginny did, hurrying through a wrought-iron gate, through a dismally neglected garden, and creaking up the stairs to a rambling, sinister-looking house.

Inside, it was a little better, but not much; it was clean, more or less, but the chairs were all up on the tables, and there were drop-cloths over the furniture. Millicent went upstairs, and Ginny followed, into a bedroom with a surprising amount of pink.

"Lav is through here," said Millicent. "Use it."

Ginny went in, tried to close the door. Millicent shook her head. "Not getting out of my sight, Weasley," she said.

"But it's just the loo," said Ginny. "You have my wand--it's not like I can--"

"You want to leave," said Millicent, "the front door's unlocked. You want to stay, you do what I tell you. Now piss, shit if you have to, and hurry. I don't have all day, and this is your last chance until tomorrow."

It was really uncomfortable, to sit with her skirt and pants around her ankles, the oversized coat pushed awkwardly to one side, with Millicent standing in the doorway waiting. But it had been a long car ride, and she'd been scared, and now she felt, well, not safe exactly, but. . . .

The noise of the piss in the toilet was embarrassingly loud. Millicent smirked at her, and Ginny closed her eyes tightly, tried to think about anything else. Fortunately, that was all she had to do, so she was able to wipe and pull up and flush without showing too much. Although, she had a feeling that she be showing too much pretty soon. Probably?

When she'd washed her hands, Millicent showed her back to the bedroom. And then stopped. "Go stand in the corner, " she said, after a some thought.

"Millicent--" started Ginny, and Millicent cut her off.

"No more argument," said Millicent. "Every time you talk back, from now on, you'll regret it. Now I have things to do which I don't want you to see, and I'm not letting you out of my sight. So go put your nose in that corner, and keep it pressed up against the wall, until I tell you otherwise."

Ginny did what she was told. Behind her, there were sound like moving furniture, maybe? And doors opening and closing, and the squeak of floorboards. If she'd just stayed home, she'd be safe. There'd be dinner on the table, and she'd have to help wash-up after, and--

"Millicent?" she said, without moving.

"What do you want now, Weasley?"

"What are you going to do with me?"

"Dunno," said Millicent. And then she was right there, behind Ginny; there hadn't been any squeak of the floorboard. She turned Ginny around, her hand hot on Ginny's shoulder. And there was a box at the foot of the bed. A big thing, almost as wide as the bed, and it looked like it was made of solid wood.

"And I don't need you distracting me while I think about it. Get in the box, Weasley."

"No," said Ginny.

Millicent raised an eyebrow. She was too close, but there was nowhere for Ginny to back up to. So she didn't. She'd faced down dementors and Death Eaters, and she wasn't going to back away just because Millicent Bulstrode was year older than her, and bigger.

She didn't know where her wand was, but if Millicent tried to use hers, yeah, she was bigger, but Ginny had been playing Quidditch for years, and she could--

"If you want to try fighting," said Millicent. "You can try. But you're not going to win. Get in the box, and I'll think about what I'm going to do."

"I'll scream," said Ginny. "Your parents--"

Millicent gave a sort of choked laugh. "I took off two weeks, fifth year, for my dad's funeral. And Mum died last year, and I wasn't supposed to talk about it."

"Oh," said Ginny. "I didn't. . . I'm sorry."

Millicent shrugged. "Didn't want the Griffyndors to know about my Dad. So nobody told. Sympathy would've been worse than if they made fun . . . and Mum, well, you give yourself to him, sometimes he uses you up. It's not like your side loses every fight."

Ginny didn't know if Harry had killed any Death Eaters. Probably had. Maybe? Could've been Millicent's mum, as easily as anyone else.

"I'm still not getting in that box," she said.

"You are," said Millicent. "And you're going to regret talking back. Do it."

Ginny must've replayed that time in third year a hundred times, in her head. That was exactly the same tone of voice that Millicent had used then, and it was the same set to her jaw.

Ginny did it. She kept her head high as she walked past her to the box, and glowered up at Millicent as the lowered the lid into place.

And then it was dark, and smelt faintly of cedar, and there were clicks and thumps as Millicent locked it.

That was it. Nobody knew where she was. If Millicent decided to send for Voldemort, or the Death Eaters, or anyone, that'd be the next face she'd see when the lid of the box was opened.

The wooden chest was big, but it wasn't big enough for her to properly sit up, or lie down; she could lie down curled up, or crouch. After a while, she lay down, and closed her eyes. Not that it mattered. It was pitch black in there.

It was the same set to her jaw as Millicent’d had third year, and the same flush on her broad cheeks, and maybe that same sort of wistful look. She’d all but said that her mother had been a Death Eater, and she'd gotten killed by someone on Ginny's side. There wasn't any reason to expect her to do anything good to Ginny, and she could do anything she wanted.

And yet, for the first time in a while, Ginny relaxed. There wasn't anything she could do. The box was dark, and it was sort of warm. She shrugged out of the coat--not easy to do in cramped quarters like that--folded it up into a pillow, and went to sleep.

She didn't sleep well, exactly. When she'd try to stretch out, she'd bump her legs against the chest, and wake herself up, and while she'd sort of made herself a pillow, the rest of the bottom of the box was hard, and uncomfortable. But she slept.

The next morning, there were thumps and bumps as Millicent opened the box. She didn't say anything, just pointed to the loo. So Ginny went, and it was just as embarrassing to pee in front of her as it had been the last time. And then she let her drink some water, and then she pointed back at the box.

She didn't say no, but she didn't want to go. "Please," she said, finally. "Just tell me what you want me to do, and I'll . . . I don't want to go back in there; it's dark, and cramped, and I--"

"You'll do what I want?" said Millicent.

Ginny gave a hesitant nod. It probably wasn't going to be good, but she just didn't want--

"I want you to go back in the box, Weasley."

Ginny scowled at Millicent, but didn't argue. It was . . . she went back into the box, and Millicent locked the lid again.

It didn't take too long before Ginny lost track of time. She wasn't tired, exactly, and she wasn't exactly sleepy. She shouldn't have gone into London, obviously. But she shouldn't have given her wand to Millicent. If there was any time for an Imperius . . . but she probably couldn't have done it. Some hex, though, and Millicent . . . and Milicent wouldn't have given in, no matter what she'd done. Ginny went back and forth over what had happened, trying to figure out what she should've done, and when she should've done it.

She'd come up with three things that might have worked, and one option that probably would've worked--Dad had told them about "directory assistance," and there were some people that she might have been able to call, who'd have . . . the lid opened.

"Up, Weasley," she said. That wasn't an instruction that Ginny had any problem listening to. "Desk."

On Millicent's desk, there was a quill and inkwell and parchment. And a blotter that had somewhat clumsy calligraphy of the alphabet, over and over. Ginny tried not to show that she'd noticed that--what had Millicent said, 'sympathy would've been worse that if they'd made fun'--and looked up, waiting to see what Millicent wanted.

"Write something for your parents," she said.

"You'll send it to them?" said Ginny, scarcely daring to hope..

"Don't be an idiot, Weasley. Every owl that shows up there is going to be traced back to where it came from. I'll send it to Morag MacDougall, and she'll send . . . whatever those muggle owls are called. But it'll get there."

"What should I say?"

Millicent shrugged. "Whatever you want," she said. "I'll read it, but whatever it is, I'll send it."

Ginny considered.

"You want them to come after you, fine. I mean, there's an apparation block on London, and there's not a snatcher on the streets who wouldn't be happy with a red Weasley scalp, but they'll probably find you, sooner or later."

"And you'll--"

Millicent shrugged. "I'll be long gone," she said. "Could be the box'll get a little uncomfortable after a couple of days, but you'll be okay, probably."

"Or?"

Millicent actually looked uncomfortable. "Or you stay here and do what I want," she said. "For a week or two. Then I'll get you out of the apparation wards."

"What you want?" asked Ginny.

"What I want," said Millicent, her heavy jaw thrust forward pugnaciously. "Now write, Weasley."

Ginny dipped the quill, considered. She was conscious of Millicent behind her, watching over her shoulder, of her own posture as she sat, feet together, back straight, of the way her skirt was creased and her jumper had a brown stain on the sleeve.

"Dear Mum and Dad," she wrote.

"There's an apparation block on London. Don't get too close, I think You-Know-Who is trying to trap us. Some of his servants almost got me, but I got away. I'm with a friend. Don't want to say names because owls can get intercepted, but I'm safe. Should be back in a week or two. Will write again in three days. Love, Ginny. PS--Tell George not to put things in his ear hole. It's unsanitary."

Millicent took it. "You'll write in three days?" she said. "Not very trusting, Weasley."

"I'm trusting you with a lot, Bulstrode," said Ginny.

Millicent scowled. "Why?"

Ginny shook her head. "It's not sympathy and it's not making fun," she said. "And it's . . . It's what I want to do."

"That's not much of an answer," said Millicent.

"It's what you're getting," said Ginny, her own jaw set. "If you want--"

"I'll get what I want," said Millicent. "Get undressed, Weasley."

Just like that time in third year. But that was what Ginny had agreed to, no point in pretending that she hadn't known it was going to happen. She undressed, stood facing Millicent.

"Arms at your sides," she said. 

Ginny unfolded her arms, held them at her sides, her fingers twitching, her bare feet fidgeting in the pink pile carpet.

Millicent gave her a long slow look, toes to hair, then back down. "Yeah, I guess. But you look a bit of a wreck, Weasley."

"Sorry," said Ginny, not feeling particularly sorry. "It's just I was bumped around in--"

"Shut up," said Millicent, not unkindly. "Go take a bath. Shave--no more hiding behind anything, Weasley, not even your bush--and do your hair nice. Don't take too long."

It was a separate bath, and Millicent left the door wedged open, and made sure she could see Ginny from her desk. Then she sealed up Ginny's letter, and wrote one of her own, tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrated. Then her owl took them off, and she started writing something else, eyes flicking back to Ginny, making sure she was where she should be.

When she was done, Ginny toweled off, and went back to Millicent's room, not sure what she should be doing.

"That's doing your hair nice?" said Millicent.

"You don't have any shampoo I recognize, and you took my wand, and--"

" _Incarcerous_ ," said Millicent, with a snap of her wand.

The spell caught her around her chest, pinning her arms in place, ropes tight and scratchy against her skin.

"Kneel, Weasley," she said, and Ginny knelt, unbalanced by not being able to move her arms.

"Now, let's see why you decided to stay here," said Millicent.

"I've told you," said Ginny.

"Haven't," said Millicent. "Open wide."

Ginny hesitated, for just a second, then opened her mouth. There was the faintest trace of a smile as Millicent got a firm grasp on Ginny's hair, and then put her wand in Ginny's mouth. "Suck it," she said.

Ginny glowered up at her, and Millicent drove the wand in harder, so that it scraped against the back of Ginny's throat. "Come on, just like it's Potter's knob."

She wasn't going to. And when Millicent saw that, she just started moving Ginny's head by her hair, back and forward.

"Fun thing is," said Millicent, "It could really be anything. Flowers. Birds. Bees. Bat-bogeys is a favorite of yours, isn't it? Fire. Probably your brothers have come up with a spell that'll make a wand piss."

They had. Ginny didn't feel like mentioning that, even if she could.

"Or," said Millicent, " _Aguamenti._ "

 

There was a sudden gush of water. Way too much; Ginny choked, but she couldn't move back, and it was in her throat, and she was coughing, and it was running down her chest, mixed with saliva, and she was coughing, and Millcent let go of her hair so that she fell to the floor.

"So, why'd you choose to stay here?" asked Millicent, crouching next to her.

"I told you!" said Ginny. "It was what I wanted to do, okay?"

"I want a better reason," said Millicent. Wand was out again. "Open wide," she said.

And Ginny did, though she couldn't say why. Again, Millicent shoved her wand in, moved Ginny's head back and forth, again, a blast of water that went out through her nose and her mouth and hurt like anything, and she was sure she was drowning.

"Why?" said Millicent.

"Because I was scared!" said Ginny. "Because I've been scared a long time, okay? And I . . . and because this way, I don't have to fight for a week, maybe two. Or I can fight, but it won't matter, like it does afterward."

Millicent hadn't put her wand away, but she wasn't shoving it down Ginny's throat, either.

"I don't scare you?" she said.

"You scare me," said Ginny. "Sure. But not like You-Know-Who. Not like being in the war."

"You think you're not in the war now?" said MIllicent.

"I do," said Ginny. Another glower at Millicent. "Maybe we're on different sides. But you didn't have to help me, and you did."

A flicker of that lost, wistful look, and then back to placid annoyance.

"Took you long enough to answer a simple question, anyway," said Millicent. "On your feet, Weasley; now I have to clean up your mess."

Ginny struggled to stand, and then Millicent used a drying charm on her carpet, and on Ginny--it wasn't like she normally did it, after washing her hair. It was harsher and hotter, but it got her dry.

And then Millicent sat down at her desk, and looked at Ginny, still tied up with the incarcerous spell, no way to shield herself with her hands, and her pussy shaved completely bare.

Ginny started fidgeting again, looked away, then looked back. "So," she said. "Was Parkinson right?"

Millicent gave her a puzzled look, then sighed. "Merlin, Weasley. Fishing for compliments?"

"I just . . ."

"You know that you're pretty," said Millicent. "And you wanted to hear me say it?"

Ginny flushed. "I want to know why you . . . I also want to know why."

Millicent shook her head. "Sure," she said. "Parkinson was right. You're pretty, Weasley. And you'll be prettier when I've hurt you." Her wand was out again, and resignedly, Ginny opened up her mouth.

Millicent laughed. " _Langlock_ ," she said, and Ginny's tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth; she tried to pull loose, to say something, and couldn't.

"Shut your mouth, Weasley," said Millicent. "You look stupid."

She closed her mouth.

Then Millicent got out a diary, closed with like four locking spells, and scratched in it for a while. Ginny couldn't say anything, or move much, so she stood there and waited. She was too far away to see what Millicent was writing, and her throat still felt sore from those blasts of water, and her joints still ached from having to stay in that box, and she . . . she waited. There wasn't anything else she could do.

Finally, Millicent was done; she closed up the diary, snapped all the spells shut, and put it back in the desk.

Then she came over to Ginny, who fought back the urge to try to move away; she wouldn't get away, and it'd just make her look afraid.

Which she was, a little. She'd been able to snap back at Millicent a bit, earlier, but now she couldn't do that. Didn't have her wand, and Millicent did. Didn't have clothing, and Millicent did. Didn't . . . didn't matter. She stood straight, met Millicent's look straight on.

And then Millicent grabbed her nipple, twisted hard.

Ginny's yelp came out weird, because her tongue couldn't move, and she couldn't . . . she kept looking straight at Millicent, who was smirking a little. "See?" said Millicent. "Prettier."

Ginny flushed and squirmed, for reasons she couldn't entirely define. "Maybe it'd be better with green rope? Or gold; I think you'd look nice in gold chains," said Millicent.

It was the same smirk, but also that lost look. Ginny looked away, down and to the side.

"On your knees, Weasley," said Millicent. "Let's see if your tongue is any use unlocked, or if I should just keep it like that for a while."

Ginny sank back down to her knees, looked up at Millicent. Who released the hex.

"Thank you," said Ginny. "I--"

"Didn't mean by talking," said Millicent, stepping out of her utilitarian white pants, and then stepping up closer to Ginny.

"Oh," said Ginny. She took a deep, uncertain breath in, and then leaned forward, mouth open, eyes closed. The Millicent was there. She tasted . . . a bit of talc, actually. And of sweat, and of something else, musky and a little unpleasant--the way Ginny's fingers tasted after she'd . . . been thinking about things. But Ginny was going to try her best; she had known what she was signing up for with that letter, and now it was time to do it.

It took a little while before they got the angle right; sitting on her knees, Ginny was too low to reach, but when she was all the way up on her knees, it wasn't. . . eventually, though, she found the spot, and Millicent came, her hands tight in Ginny's hair, her thighs locked around her face.

After she was finished, Millicent dragged Ginny along behind her, made her stand facing the corner when Millicent took a bath, and then put her back into the box when she was done.

Ginny wasn't tired, but there wasn't anything else to do there. So she sort of drifted off, half awake, the only sounds her own breathing, the little scratches she could make with her hands or her feet, the outside world gone.

When Millicent pulled her out again, she didn't talk. Just showed Ginny to the loo, tied her up with the spell, made her lick her out, gave her a bowl of milk to drink and some crackers--she was ravenous, so she ate everything, not even thinking twice about lapping milk from a bowl, or how stupid she looked eating crackers from a plate on the floor, hands tied behind her back.

And then it was back in the box.

There weren't any windows in Millicent's room--or there were, and they were blocked off by mirrors or spells, so Ginny couldn't tell what time it was, or how long she'd been there. Some of the sessions in the box felt longer than others, but there was no way of knowing if that was real or not.

There was food between the sessions, and sex--not for her, but she had to lick Millicent out just about every time--and sometimes Millicent would hurt her. Not, like, seriously. But enough that Ginny couldn't pretend that it didn't hurt--pinches and swats and things like hairbrushes and doubled-up belts.

Then, one time, Millicent sat her down at the desk, gave her a quill and parchment.

"Write," she said. It was difficult, having to think with words. Ginny hadn't been doing that, lately. It would've been easier to kneel, and lick between Millicent's thighs.

But she was the one who'd set it up. And while it was nice to have a space where she couldn't hear the outside world, there wasn't any use pretending it wasn't there.

"Dear Mum and Dad," she wrote. "I am fine. Honest, it's been good to get away from it all, but I think I'll be able to get back soon. Maybe in a week, maybe a little less. My love to everyone, and I hope that George is well, and nobody else is hurt. Love, Ginny."

Millicent read it over, and raised her eyebrow at Ginny. "A week, maybe less?" she said.

Ginny stuck her chin out, like Millicent did when she was going to get her way. "I have to. I can't stay here forever."

That lost look again. "No," said Millicent. "I suppose you can't. Still, a week's a week. Back in the box, Weasley. I have some shopping to do."

"If you gave me my wand," said Ginny, "I could make the box a little bigger inside? Or I could--"

"It's as big as I want it to be," said Millicent. "In the box."

Ginny got into the box. Truth was, it wasn't so bad; she'd gotten used to how small it was, and she could fit herself into the space it left her. But she'd felt like she was supposed to try something.

Previous times she'd been in there, there wasn't any way of knowing that Millicent was in the house or not. Had to have gone out sometimes--there was fresh fruit, and stuff like that. But now she knew that she was alone, and it was a little different, knowing that if anyone came in, there wasn't anything she could do, or any way she could defend herself if someone came in, and checked what was in the big wooden box at the foot of the bed.

It was a tremendous relief when the box was opened again.

There were a couple of empty bags on the dresser, and the wardrobe door was half-open, showing some plastic-wrapped clothing inside, amidst Millicent's dresses. Some carefully discreet packaging from muggle shops, a heavy-looking chest from Trackleshanks, and a pair of potions from one of the dodgier shops in Knockturn Alley, as well as some other boxes that Ginny couldn't place.

Ginny went to the loo, used it, then went back out, on her knees, arms at her sides, waiting for whatever came next.

"Two options, Weasley," said Millicent, holding up the potions. They were both in antique-looking clear glass bottles; one potion was faintly green, the other clear as water. "Fear, or truth. Which one do you want to do first?"

Ginny flinched, shook her head. Neither of those sounded very good.

"Come on," she said. "Or I'll beat you until you choose."

She'd would. Ginny still had the bruises on her arse and breasts. "Fear?" said Ginny. Fear she could handle, probably. She'd been afraid a lot.  
"Open," said Millicent, and unstoppered the green potion. She held it under Ginny's nose, so she could smell it--faintly acid, faintly rotten--and then tilted it back into Ginny's mouth.

Ginny drank, waited.

"It's a good one," said MIlicent. "Not as strong as some, but--"

There was a pounding in Ginny's ears, and then she looked around. Everything was the same, and yet, the shadows loomed darker, every little noise seemed louder. "But it works pretty fast," said Millicent.

There was a tick--probably just a clock, or something, but it might have been a footstep on the stair, or. . . .

Millicent was holding a length of green rope; Ginny found herself trying not to scream. She waited as long as she could, then she couldn't anymore. She leapt up from her knees, looking for safety. There; she lunged out, and grabbed hold of Millicent, as hard as she could, hands and arms and legs all holding on tight.

A frown creased Millicent's broad face. "That's not exactly--"

Ginny tried to explain, but all that came out where some frightened meeps; she clutched tighter to Millicent.

"Weasley," she said, and it was a warning. Ginny didn't let go.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," said Millicent. She grabbed hold of one of Ginny's arms, twisted it back so  
that Ginny had to let go, and then she leaned in close. "Boo!" she said, and clapped her hands.

Ginny bolted. The box. She got in, tried to pull the lid closed over her, but Millicent got to it, pulled it away. So Ginny cowered at the bottom of the box, mad at herself for cowering, but not able to stop. She was sweating, and her heart was beating like a drum, and--

"Better," said Millicent, with a smile. She just stood there for a bit, watching Ginny, who hadn't been allowed clothing in days, but who felt naked, really naked, in a way that she hadn't felt for a long time.

Then Millicent grabbed one of Ginny's ankles, and pulled her up out of the box, and then onto the bed. Before Ginny could get away, or cling to Millicent, or get back into the box, Millicent had tied that ankle to the foot of the bed, then she got one of her wrists tied to the headboard, then another, then the other ankle--Ginny had been kicking with that, but it hadn't mattered at all.

By the time she was done, Millicent was breathing heavily, face flushed. And then she tied on a blindfold, which was even more frightening. Every noise was something--Millicent's breathing, the squeak of the springs, everything made Ginny want to jump and hide, but she couldn't; she was just there, and crying a little.

Then there was something on her, something cold, and hard, and moving; Ginny squeaked, tried to avoid it, but it was moving on her, and then between her legs, and it was hard, and it hurt, and she whined, and twisted, and tried to get a hold of herself.

"Something from a specialty shop in Knockturn Alley," said Millicent. "Amazing what you can get there, really."

Then she was on the bed, on top of Ginny; Ginny could feel Millicent's shirt against her chest, feeling whatever it was inside of her, and it was hard, and it hurt, and she couldn't see--

Her legs were apart, and Millicent was between them; she could feel the outside of Millicent's thighs on the insides of hers. Whatever the thing was, it seemed to have attached to Millicent, too. It pulled back when her hips pulled back, and thrust up into Ginny.

Ginny moaned, and not entirely in fear.

Millicent pulled off the blindfold, her face flushed, her fist bunched around the silk of the blindfold.

"Yes," she said. "Like that."

She leaned forward, and slapped Ginny in the face. It didn't hurt that much, but Ginny cringed, scrunched her eyes closed when Millicent raised her hand again.

"Just like that," said Millicent. And then her eyes were closed, and she was thrusting into Ginny, hard.

Milicent's weight pushing down on her, into her, Millicent's shirt against her nipples, Millicent's legs against her legs. At some point, Ginny stopped straining against the ropes trying to escape, and started straining against them to pull closer, to touch the vein in Millicent's neck, to wrap her legs around hers, to feel skin against skin, to--

Ginny'd gotten pretty good at telling when Millicent was about to come, and there it was--the tension in the shoulder, the spasming of the leg, the white-knuckled clench of the fists. But she didn't stop when she was done, and then Ginny was too far gone to notice anything. She'd been naked for three days, and used for sex whenever Millicent took the notion, so she was ready, and even though she was still afraid, even though an unexpected noise would leave her wracked with shivers, Ginny came, gasping for air, heat and wetness and desire.

When she was done, Millicent rolled off of her, then pulled something metal and squirming off of her, said a word, and then tossed the lifeless thing to the side.

"Just like that," she said again, cuffing Ginny's cheek lightly.

"Thank you," said Ginny, and Millicent looked surprised, the expression vanishing quickly.

"Boo!" said Millicent. Ginny jumped, tried to get away, and couldn't.

Millicent laughed, untied Ginny's left arm and left leg, then retied them to the right side of the bed, so that Ginny was on her side. Then she got up, washed out the potion bottle, and washed off whatever that metal thing was, and then sat back down, between Ginny and the edge of the bed.

"Here," said Millicent, passing her half a biscuit. "Chocolate helps with the after-effects."

Ginny ate from Millicent's hand. Then Millicent swept the bed clean of crumbs, and looked at her.

"Fine!" said Millicent, after a while. "Not the box tonight. But if you snore, I swear to God you'll regret it."

Ginny was pretty sure she didn't snore--if she had, one of her brothers would've made a big deal about it. But she really hoped she didn't, because while the box might have been quiet and dark, it wasn't being in the box that scared her--it was might be happening outside the box that frightened her, and anything might be happening outside the box.

Millicent went to the bath, behind her. Ginny could hear her bathing, but couldn't see her. She came out in a nightgown--it was the first time that Ginny'd seen her without shoes--then she turned out the lights, pulled some blankets over them, and fell asleep like a minute later.

It took Ginny a bit longer; she'd gotten so used to sleeping in the box that it was a little hard to sleep on a bed. Too soft, and the room was too big, and whenever she closed her eyes, a different nightmare started.

She probably could've used more chocolate.

But after a while, Millicent's rhythmic breathing calmed her down, and the ropes held her tight, and the bed was soft, and the blankets were warm.

The next morning, Ginny awoke with a panicked start, and then remembered where she was, and relaxed back down into the bed. Millicent was still sleeping. Ginny couldn't see her, but she could hear her, and at some point during the night Millicent had turned over, so that her hand was on Ginny's shoulder.

She was there for a while, like that. Then Millicent woke up, had her use the loo, and bath, and then lick her out, and then it was back into the box.

Not for too long that time--Ginny wasn't even that hungry when Millicent took her out again, had her eat some mash and half-eaten ends of sausages from a bowl on the floor, while she beat her arse with a leather strap.

That was the sort of thing that she'd normally do, but this time, she was playing with Ginny's pussy as she did it. It felt a little weird, actually--she hadn't really been touching there much, since Millicent had made her start shaving it. Good weird, though.

"Interesting," said Millicent. She poked two fingers deep into Ginny's cunt, then pulled them back out, leaving Ginny gasping, and feeling strangely empty.

She held them out in front of Ginny, where she could see how wet they were, a gob of milky moisture between her finger.

"Lick," she said. Ginny licked Millicent fingers clean, then her plate, then she had to go back in her box.

Millicent patted her head before she locked the box closed. "Next up is truth," she said, as she was closing it. "We'll wait a little bit before then, though."

There were a few more sessions like that--it was more or less the same thing that Millicent had been doing, but there were more touches, and Millicent seemed to have relaxed a little around Ginny. And then it was time for the other potion.

"Veritaserum," explained Millicent, holding it up. "It's not cheap. Especially not now, given how many people need to lie, for one side or the other. But this batch looks okay--good odds it's not poison, anyway."

"Great," said Ginny.

"Shush," said Millicent, smacking her in the face. Not hard enough to really hurt, but hard enough to matter. "Talk when I ask you questions."

Ginny nodded.

Then Millicent tied her to her chair, tight enough to spread her legs apart. She left her like that, dragged another chair into the room, and put it next to her, sat down. She was holding the leather strap in her hand. It looked like it was made for hitting people; maybe it had come from one of the muggle stores Millicent had visited?

"Recommended dose is three drops, so we'll start with that; if need be, I can go through the whole bottle. Tongue out, Weasley."

Ginny stuck her tongue out, and Millicent used a pipette to drop three beads of veritaserum onto it, her brows knitted in concentration.

During defense against Dark Arts, they'd practiced throwing off all sorts of spells. But they hadn't tried veritaserum. Probably they should--if it was going to be--

"What are you thinking about, Weasley?" said Millicent.

"Defense against dark arts," said Ginny, not able to stop the words. "We could practice with this--it's not dark arts, exactly, but it's the sort of thing we need to know what it's like, so we can plan accordingly."

Millicent scowled, then shrugged. "Have to get your own bottle if you want that," she said. "Have you fucked Potter yet?"

"No," said Ginny. "I think I will soon, though. It's could be our last chance, after all, any minute, so we should take it."

That lost look, just a shadow of it. Meanwhile, Ginny squirmed; if she could've gotten away, she would've. But she couldn't.

"You fancy boys then?" said Millicent.

"Yes," said Ginny.

Millicent brought the strap down across Ginny's inner thigh, hard.

"Ow!" said Ginny. "That hurt. I told the truth, and--"

"Of course you told the truth," said Millicent. "But that wasn't the answer I wanted to hear. You don't fancy girls, then?"

"No," said Ginny. "I mean, besides you. And it's not exactly fancying, is it? I mean, I want to do what you tell me to do, and it turns me on when I have to do those things, and ever since third year I haven't been able to think of you without feeling a little funny, but it's. . . it's just different, I guess. It's--"

"So you don't fancy me, then?" said Millicent.

"I do," said Ginny. She hadn't known she had, until she said that, but it was true. "If you kept using me like this, I mean, I'd miss my friends and my family and doing things and knowing things and--"

The strap came down, across the other thigh.

"But my point is that I'd also like it, and I'd look forward to every time you took me out, and I'd remember the times you let me sleep in your bed, and I'd hope--"

"Do you think I'm pretty, then, Weasley?" asked Millicent, and there as something harsh in her voice.

"No," said Ginny, and she didn't flinch away when the strap came down; she'd earned that, even though it was true. "But you're not ugly or anything? You're strong and you're clever and you scare me and I want to make you happy."

"I scare you," said Millicent, and while there wasn't really a question there, Ginny couldn't stop talking.

"Because if it's Malfoy or whoever it feels like underneath it all, they're weaker than I am, really, like they'll do things if they can, but that they couldn't stand it if they were losing, so even if they're winning it's not frightening, really. But while you have places where you're weak, underneath it you're strong, and I can't--"

"What are you afraid that I'm going to do?" asked Millicent.

"I'm afraid that you'll leave me alone," said Ginny, "and that the world will get in and we'll have to do the things that I've been avoiding, and I'm afraid that I'll do the wrong thing or I'll say the wrong thing, and it'll change the way you look at me, and it'll change all the stuff that we've done, and that--"

The strap came down. "Not that," said Millicent. "When you're alone in your box, and you're thinking about what's going to happen next, what are some of things that come into your head, which you think I might do, and which you don't want me to do."

"I didn't like the whip," said Ginny. Millicent had used it once, and it hurt more than the strap, and it sort of cut--like each stroke was a knife, rather than a line of leather. "So sometimes I'm afraid you're going to use it again. And that thing you got--the metal thing that you fucked me with? It seems like it's really big, so I keep hoping you aren't going to use it on my bum."

Now Millicent was smiling. "Good," she said. "More like that."

"I like and I don't like having my hair pulled," said Ginny. "And things when I can't see what's coming, and there's a long pause, and I have to stand still--I don't like that. And . . . and when you put the wand in my mouth and made a comment about having it shoot piss--I really don't want to have to drink piss, Millicent. And--"

"Fine," said Millicent. "That's enough; we don't have that much time left, anyway."

Ginny had permission not to talk, so she was able to keep quiet. They were definitely going to have to practice resisting veritaserum. That stuff was insidious--everything she'd really be hoping not to have to do, and now Millicent was going--

"One thing you're really hoping that I do," she said.

"I want you to kiss me," said Ginny. Then she blushed, and looked down. There were all sorts of things she wanted--why couldn't she have talked about being fucked in public, or having her neck chained to Millicent's ankle and having to follow her around like that, or something that would make her look . . . make her look like she was on the same page as Millicent, not a kid dreaming about being a princess, or whatever that was.

Millicent didn't say anything for a little while.

Then, "Paid enough for this," she said. "Probably should get some use out of it. Who do you think is going to win, Weasley?"

"I think we are," said Ginny. "Most of the time. Sometimes not, but most of the time yes."

"Why?"

"Because we haven't lost yet," said Ginny. "Harry can be stupid, you know? But he's beaten You-Know-Who a bunch of times. And also . . . also even when they have an advantage, the guys against him all hate each other. So they don't team up well."

Millicent gave a short laugh. "You know the joke?" she said. "Five plus one?"

"No?" said Ginny.

"Teacher asks, 'what's five plus one?' Gryffindor says four, Ravenclaw says six, Slytherin copies Ravenclaw's answer. Half an hour later, Hufflepuff says, 'Friendship!'"

Ginny tried to hold a giggle back, and failed. "That's terrible and wrong, though," she said. "It's not like--"

"Point is," said Millicent, "the guys telling that joke . . . it's not a group that's very good at teamwork. Could be you're right. I mean, doesn't really look like you're right, but maybe. Anyhow, let me untie you, and then you can kiss my foot, and get back in your box. I'll take you out and fuck your arse a little later."

"Thank you," said Ginny. The veritaserum was still working, and she hadn't been told to be quiet or anything, but she hadn't been told to keep talking, so she was able to leave it at that. When she was untied, she kissed Millicent's foot--Millicent flinched away a little, even though it'd been a really light peck--and then went back into the box.

A little while after that, Millicent took her out, tied her to the bed with a pillow under her hips, and fucked her arsehole with that half-living metal thing. It hurt almost as much as Ginny had expected it to, at least at first, and Ginny didn't get anywhere close to coming from that, not like when she'd used it on Ginny's fanny.

But when she was done, she sort of slumped over on top of Ginny, and that was kind of nice; she still couldn't see Millicent, but she could feel her breasts against her back, feel the weight of her pushing her down into the mattress.

Then she got up, took a bath--Ginny could hear the whole thing, but she'd been tied down so well she could barely move at all, and then came to bed with the rustle of a nighshirt. And then she put a candle into Ginny's poor abused arsehole, and it dripped, and the wax was hot, and it went down onto her pussy, and that hurt worse than anything, and if she moved because it hurt, it dripped more.

But it was also kind of nice that Millicent was using her to read in bed, and she let Ginny stay in bed that night, tied up on her side.

It went like that for a while; everything that Ginny had explicitly said that she didn't want Millicent to do to her, Millicent did--braided ropes into her hair and then tied those ropes tightly to her ankles, so that she had to spend an hour lying on the floor, basically pulling her own hair, and she whipped her, and some of the times when she'd normally have been put back in the box, she had to stand in the corner and wait, and try not to fidget too much, or she'd get whipped again.

But it was also . . . it wasn't that Millicent was relaxed with her, exactly. But it was more relaxed, less of that lost look. And she let Ginny touch her more, and while Ginny still hadn't seen her naked, there was one time when she took a bath, and she let Ginny wash her--blindfold, angry little clips on her nipples, clothes peg on her tongue, but still, washing her. Then she had her drink her piss, which was awful--it tasted rank, and there was so much of it that some had gotten up her nose, which burned, and she was sure she was going to vomit.

And she let Ginny kiss her feet more often, too.

Then, after a particularly long session in the box, Millicent was playing with Ginny. And clothes pegs, trying to see just how many she could get on her pussy. It turned out that it was eleven--six on the outer lips, four on the inner, and one on her clit--and it hurt like hell. Particularly when she made Ginny jump up and down.

When that was done, and Ginny stood there trembling, trying not to scream her head off because of how much it hurt, Millicent got a thoughtful look on her face.

"There was something I wanted to try," she said. "Course, if you so much as breathe a word of any of this, Weasley--"

"I never did," said Ginny.

"No," said Millicent, and looked away. "And besides, I've got some very nice photographs of you anyway, so it's not like I'd be embarrassed more than you. Just don't."

"I won't," said Ginny, starting to get nervous. They'd done all the things that she didn't want to do, even the piss thing, which Millicent hadn't liked much. But this felt like something . . . more, maybe.

"And it's a waste of potions I'll probably need," grumbled Millicent, then went and got out two more bottles. They were heavy, and there was a thick, bubbling mud in each of them.

"They're not very good, I don't think," said Millicent. "Maybe an hour or two, probably not more than that. Anyhow, first let's get you tied up, and then you can have a drink."

It was ropes, this time, and while Ginny got tied up pretty thoroughly, Millicent actually left the ropes loose, for once. Then she dropped a hair in, and the potion changed. Pale green, a bit of foam on the top. Ginny opened her mouth, and Millicent poured it in. It had a solid sort of taste, thickly bitter, but solid. And then the reason for the loose ropes became clear. Every part of Ginny swelled up, until she was a copy of Millicent. Ropes went from too loose to tight enough she could barely breathe. Her breasts were squeezed in between the ropes, much bigger than they had been, and they hurt, and her chest hurt, and the rope that Millicent had looped across her crotch was cutting into her.

Then Millicent dropped a hair into the other potion; there was a flash of red and gold, and then she drank it down. And Millicent Bulstrode became Ginny Weasley.

"LIke what you see?" asked Millicent, stepping out of the clothing that was now way too big on her.

Ginny shook her head, not sure how to answer. It was her--it looked like her, but she was walking like Millicent, sort of bulkier than how she usually walked, and her hips weren't moving right, exactly, and--

And Millicent hit her across the face, harder than she usually did.

What followed hurt, a lot. Normally, Millicent would hit her pretty hard, if she wanted something, or if Ginny had been slow to follow an order, or something like that, but she'd usually stop when she got what she wanted, or when Ginny'd jumped a bit, or cried.

This time, though, she hit her again and again, and seemed to enjoy it even more when she cried. Face and breasts--which were bigger, and more sensitive, and tied so tight they were purpling, and it all hurt. As did the tone that Millicent took--there was a sort of contempt there, which hadn't been there before, and a delight in the way Ginny moaned under the lash, the way she tried to worm her way out of range, too constrained by the ropes to escape.

But it softened a little, when Ginny showed herself eager to please, licking where Millicent told her to lick, even her arse--which was also her own arse, she'd seen that little mole on the right cheek in the mirror a million times before--and eventually she untied one of Ginny's hands, and then the other, and then she put the metal thing on Ginny, this time--on the other side, it didn't actually go up into her, but sort of attached itself to her pussy, pulsing and moving on her clit and on her folds.

Millicent rode her, Ginny's hands on her thighs; she came twice, and then a third time, as her hair darkened to black, as she became bigger and Ginny became smaller, until they were who they were again, Ginny underneath Millicent, Millicent over her, naked, nipples hard, head thrown back.

And then Ginny came, the pulses of the toy finally pushing her over the edge.

When she was done, Millicent tied Ginny's wrists together, and her ankles, then flipped her over onto her stomach. Ginny waited there as Millicent put her nightgown on, and then she traced the lines that she'd left on her back, on her thighs.

"Could probably heal those," said Millicent. "But truth is, you look better like that."

Ginny wriggled under Millicent's touch, face buried in the pillow. It drifted lower, to the curve of her arse.

"Course, if someone notices, you'll have questions to answer. More your problem than mine, really."

She flipped Ginny back over, tsked. And then she did take her wand out, and it burned and cooled, and the hurt faded from her face, from her neck, from her arms. "That'll probably do it," said Millicent, when she was done. Ginny's stomach and legs were still a mess, and there were whip-marks across her breasts, and marks from the ropes that had been so tight she was probably going to bruise.

"Probably should avoid low-cut blouses for a while," said Millicent. "Don't heal those if you don't have to. You earned them, after all."

Ginny hadn't exactly stopped wriggling. Maybe Millicent would--

"Go to sleep, Weasley," she said. "You're going home tomorrow."

"Please?" asked Ginny. "Could you--"

Millicent slapped her cheek. Not quite hard enough to leave a bruise, but close. "Go to sleep, Weasley."

So Ginny did.

The next day, it wasn't a polyjuice potion. It was a squid-dye packet that turned Ginny's hair dark blue, and a pair of big glasses, and a raincoat.

Ginny felt absolutely ridiculous going out like that, to Millicent's car, and while the ride going to her house had been terrifying, it was worse when she was sitting next to her, because when she'd been in the trunk, she hadn't been able to watch Millicent's driving. Which involved considerably more frequent use of confundus charms on angry muggles than Ginny thought driving ought to use.

They drove for a while, then pulled in at a services a few miles out of London. "We're out of the apparation block," said Millicent, and she gave Ginny back her wand.

"Right," said Ginny. "Thank you."

It was like getting back an arm that had been missing. And she could--"Would you, um, want to go back behind the--"

"No," said Millicent. "If I had, I'd have told you."

She crossed her arms, waiting for something. Ginny considered what else she might say, adn everything seemed either too small or too sappy or wrong for any other reason.

"Tell you what, though," said Millicent. "Things don't go the way you think . . . hell. Truth is, I could probably find you somewhere that they won't be able to find you."

"Thank you," repeated Ginny.

"Yeah, well," said Millicent. "But this stuff . . . it's like it ratchets up, you know? What seemed like what I want at the start of the week is tame by the end of it. Not sure where'd you wind up after a year or two of that."

Ginny flushed to the roots of her hair. "Sounds good," she said.

Millicent gave a half-smile. "Yeah, well. It's nice to keep pretty things locked away for when you want them. Also, make sure to bring some of Potter's hair when you come--it'd be worth money. Which reminds me."

She reached out, took a handful of Ginny's hair, and cut off a big chunk. "There," she said. "There are already a couple dozen hookers who have a call out for that; lots of Death Eaters want to come on your face."

"Great," said Ginny. "What I always wanted."

Millicent cuffed her cheek. "Course it is," she said. "Anyway. You should be going."

She should. Home and meals and her bed and family and her friends. She should be going.

Millicent waited until the apparation had almost started before she leaned in and kissed Ginny's cheek. Ginny half felt it, and half didn't. And then she was back in the Burrow, to a whole host of worried questions and affection and all the things she'd spent a week missing and hiding from.

#

The third time Millicent Bullstsrode gave Ginny Weasley sanctuary was about a month after the Battle of Hogwarts.

Voldemort was dead, Harry Potter wasn't, and the wizarding world was too badly hurt to be happy, and too happy to be hurt. And Ginny was in the thick of it.

There was the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler and every hack from west of the Carpathians wanting an interview, and there were arcanists and historians and scholars who wanted precise details of every single spell that was cast and how, and there were the funeral services--so many funeral services--and there was the way that people looked at her there, and in the shops, and when she showed her face anywhere, for any reason.

Ginny dealt with it as long as she could, then one morning when thirty-seven owls showed up for her, she got on a broom and went to Millicent's house.

She'd been one of the Slytherins who'd come back for the battle against Voldemort. Ginny had seen her there, and had seen her after--bloodied, but not badly. And she hadn't seen her since; she'd sent a couple of letters, but hadn't gotten any responses.

The house looked like it had; shuttered, tall iron fence, garden that was mostly thistles and gorse. Ginny took a deep breath, walked up to the front door, and knocked. Then she waited.

Maybe she was gone. Maybe she wouldn't--

"What do you want, Weasley?" asked Millicent, opening the door.

"Somewhere to stay," said Ginny. "Somewhere they don't know where I am."

Millicent gave a thoughtful scowl. "Brought the hair I told you to bring?"

Ginny held out an envelope, with a lock of Harry's hair in it.

Another thoughtful scowl. "Fine," said Millicent. "Give me your wand."

It was why she'd come, more or less, but it was still--there'd be so long, when she'd gone to sleep with it under her pillow, or in her hand. They'd been fighting for so long, and holding on so tight.

She passed it over.

"All right," said Millicent, opening the door a little wider. "Go upstairs, get undressed, wait in the corner. I'll be up soon."

Ginny went in past Millicent. The lower floor--the whole salon, and what looked like most of the kitchen--had been turned into a laboratory, with cauldrons and alembics and all that. But she hadn't been told to linger downstairs. She went upstairs, got undressed, folding her clothing at the foot of Millicent's bed, then stood, and waited.

It was uncomfortable, waiting naked with her nose pressed up against a corner of the room. But it was better than the owls.

After a while, Millicent came upstairs, patted Ginny's arse as she walked by, and Ginny twitched, and groaned.

Millicent laughed.

"Potter not treating you right?" she asked.

"There was a spider in my bedroom, rigged to take pictures!" said Ginny. "And there were--"

"Shut up, Weasley," said Millicent. There were thumps and the sounds of furniture being dragged across the floor. Ginny relaxed, and waited, and when Millicent took her by her shoulder and turned her around, there was that wooden chest there, at the foot of the bed.

Ginny took a step forward, and Millicent slapped her, pushed her back against the wall. "Maybe later," she said. "Who knows where you are?"

"Harry," said Ginny. "I mean, my mum and dad and all the others know I had to get away for a week or two, and that is all I told Harry, but I also told him about last summer, so he'd--"

"Did you?" said Millicent, and there was that lost look.

"Yes," said Ginny. "He didn't entirely understand, I don't think. But he needed to know? I can't. . . secrets weren't going to work, then. There'd been--"

"Fine," said Millicent. "It's not as though I was going to be able to keep you without anyone noticing, anyway. Too much fuss about Voldemort for you to disappear quietly."

Ginny looked up at her, and there was the faintest trace of a smile at the corner of her eyes.

"I mean, still could get a good price for you," said Millicent. Her hand drifted lower, to Ginny's breast, and she lifted it, sort of weighing it. "Quality product, and all sorts of people who'll want a piece of it. But thanks to you being a blabbermouth, it'd get traced back to me, and I'm walking the straight and narrow, these days."

"Sorry?" said Ginny.

Smile got a little more noticeable, right before Millicent slapped her again.

"You're a right pain when you're allowed to talk, Weasley," said Millicent. "You know why I switched sides, at the end there?"

Ginny couldn't help but droop a little. "Because you couldn't trust me not to talk?" she said. "I guess I. . . "

"And you think too much of yourself, when you're allowed to think. I switched because ambitious doesn't always mean stupid. If your side had a chance of winning, switching over made the most sense. You win, lot of pure-bloods were going to lose their jobs, lot of old Slytherins retiring early from ministry jobs. And that hat keeps churning out the same number of new ones every year, so they can't just get rid of them."

Ginny didn't quite follow.

"So I got most of the benefits of having been on Voldemort's team--no problems from the headmaster or the ministry, nobody minds too much what I do for fun--and now I get all the benefits of having fought in Dumbledore's Army. Which means whatever job I want, as there are still folks with house and blood loyalty who want a Bulstrode in a position of authority, and who don't have many Bulstrodes to choose from."

"But I--"

Another slap. "But I'm not good enough at transfiguration to keep you pretty when I turn you into something quiet, and most of the ministry work I've been doing is cleaning out various deceased wizards’ collections of potions and potations determining which of them break which laws, and which can be of further use. So you're going to have speak only when spoken to entirely on your own. Can you handle that, Weasley?"

Ginny gave a quick nod.

Millicent patted her cheek. "Up on top of the box, hands and knees."

Ginny did what Millicent told her.

"Hum," said Millicent, pushing the curve of her back down, which opened up her arse, and her pussy. "Keeping shaved, Weasley?"

"Yes?" said Ginny. "I got used to it when I was here, I guess. It's not all the time, but--"

"But it suits," said Millicent. "Keeps you ready for use."

Her fingers pushed in, warm, and strong, and unforgiving. She made a half-disgusted noise, wiped them clean on Ginny's thigh. "Something I've been meaning to test about polyjuice, anyway," she said. "Stay."

Ginny waited as Millicent walked across the room. When she came back, there was something slathered on, and then something pushed into her arse. "First part of the test is to stretch you out in your proper form. So those'll be in until you're as wide as I want."

It was hard, and cold, and the base was hard and cold and squeezed in uncomfortably, but Ginny took it quietly. Mostly quietly. There were a few small whimpers that escaped, as well as what was clearly a whine when Millicent slapped her thigh, hard, once the plug was in place.

"Maybe later," said Millicent, in response. "If you're good. Up."

Then the cover came off, and Ginny was allowed to get in the box. The thing in her arse was cold and hard and it was hard to get comfortable with its base wedged in there, but for the first time in a very long time, she relaxed, and fell sort of half asleep.

No idea how long it had been, when Millicent pulled her out, gave her some food and let her use the loo, and then put in a bigger plug. And then had her kneel next to her desk for like an hour, occasionally teasing her clit with the back of a quill, or her fingers, warm and strong and blunt.

Ginny was an absolute mess when Millicent was done writing. Finally, finally, Millicent let her lick her pussy, and then, when she was done, rest her head on Millicent's thigh for a bit, before putting her back in the box.

The next time, the plug had left her pretty sore, but that didn't mean she didn't get a bigger one. And then she had to go downstairs to help Millicent with her research. Not walk downstairs, because she wasn't allowed to walk, and crawling down the stairs was tricky.

"They were trying to fix mudbloods with potions, which was stupid. Problem was that they were looking for a difference between them and purebloods, and there isn't any. I mean, beside who their parents were. No way to come up with potions that'd distinguish between them, anyhow. So the stuff they were coming up with for mudblood control and registration would work just as well on purebloods. Some interesting results, though."

Millicent picked up a potion, labeled in spindly handwriting, 'For the control and pacification of mudblood witches.' "Here," she said. "Try this one."

Ginny opened her mouth, and Millicent poured the potion in. It burned, going down, and it didn't stop burning.

"Please," she groaned.

"Hm?"

"Please it hurts and I've done what you wanted, and I can't--"

"Shush," said Millicent. "Just enjoy."

It wasn't the least bit enjoyable. It felt like her stomach was burning up, and she couldn't . . . and she was also burning up lower than her stomach.

It wasn't like arousal, exactly. Arousal didn't hurt, and this did. It burned, making her want, making her need, more than she ever had. Ginny moaned, reached out for Millicent.

"Stay," she said. "If you're good, I'll play with you later."

So Ginny did her best to stay. It was impossible; she was burning, she needed, and she couldn't--

"Plan was," said Millicent, "near as we can tell from the old perv's notes, was that Muggle-born witches would be dosed regularly with the stuff. Which would keep them from being able to pay much attention to magic, and would make them useful to have around the house."

Ginny moaned, and Millicent patted her head, let her fingers trail down Ginny's back, which made her arch, and practically purr. "Lot of interesting changes you stopped there."

Her hand dipped lower, and Ginny tried to grind back against it. So she moved it further away, and Ginny followed, crawling backward in a circle around Millicent, which made her laugh and laugh. And then she finally held it in place long enough that Ginny was able to push against it.

She came really hard; there were spots behind her eyes when she was done, and she was breathing irregularly, but she was still exactly as needy as she had been before she came. Ginny gave a pitiful moan, and Millicent laughed again. " _Incarcerous _," she said, and Ginny was wrapped up in ropes. Green ropes; it seemed that Millicent had been practicing that effect.__

__"That'll keep you from rubbing yourself raw, anyway," said Millicent. She toed Ginny's pussy, and Ginny bucked up against it. She was burning up; it was almost surprising that she wasn't leaving scorch marks on Millicent's shoe._ _

__"You'll get another one soon," said Millicent. "Maybe. First let's spread you open a little more."_ _

__She flipped Ginny onto her belly, took out the plug, and put in an even larger one. It hurt, but the heat was there too--it hurt, but it was good, and she was sore but it was good, and she was--_ _

__Millicent picked Ginny up by her ropes, held her in one hand as she went back upstairs, dropped her in her box, and locked it closed._ _

__Ginny moaned, and bucked, and tried to find some way to grind against . . . anything. But the spell had tied her up better than that, and she couldn't seem to do anything more than stoke the flames. And the thing in her arse hurt, but she was able to sort of jostle it, so it moved, and even though that wasn't getting her any closer, it was something, anyway._ _

__By the time Millicent opened the box again, Ginny's hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat, and she was one giant ache. She moaned, barely capable of thought, looking up at Millicent and hoping._ _

__Millicent gave a half-smile, and sat down on the foot of the bed looking into the box with a wistful expression. Ginny did not have time for that. She moaned, she bucked, she writhed, trying to find something that would make Millicent touch her. Anywhere._ _

__"If they'd have gotten it to work right, it'd be a twelve hour dose, one in morning and one before bed. Course, not for you--blood traitors were supposed to be quietly disposed of, not distributed to the populace. Nother reason not to sign on with Voldemort, that."_ _

__Finally, she knelt next to the box, stroked Ginny's shoulder. Then she grabbed hold of the cluster of knots at Ginny's back, picked her up again, and tossed her onto the bed. Ginny was breathing so hard she thought she'd pass out, when Millicent started playing with the thing in her, pulling it out a little bit, thrusting it back home._ _

__"Nice and open," she said. "Good. Time for a nap, though."_ _

__Her hand found Ginny's clit, and Ginny came at the first touch. But Millicent didn't stop, and whatever was in that potion didn't let Ginny stop. She came, constantly, over and over, gasping and flopping in her bonds like a fish in a net._ _

__And that was the last thing she could remember._ _

__When she woke up, it was light--afternoon, maybe?--and her arse hurt more than anything._ _

__She was still in bed, and Millicent was sitting next to her, reading._ _

__Ginny twisted, but while she wasn't as tied up as she'd been, she was still tied up pretty tight._ _

__Millicent noticed her squirming, and raised an eyebrow. "You've been abducted by moles," she said._ _

__"What?" asked Ginny._ _

__"Moles," said Millicent. She opened up the Quibbler, showed Ginny a picture of a mole, looking huge, because of the camera angle, coming up out of its hole, and looking around. "I'd have thought mole people, or maybe left over Death Eaters, but no. Moles. There's a statement by Potter, too."_ _

__Despite everything else, Ginny was interested. "What does he say?" She’d known that going to Millicent would mean leaving Harry behind, but--_ _

__"It could be that Ginny was tired of answering this sort of question, which is why she didn't tell you where she was going," said Millicent, which was the sort of thing that he would say. But Millicent wasn't done. "On the other hand, it could be moles. I would caution everyone to avoid injuring them for now, just in case they have her, and would take some hideous underground revenge."_ _

__"Dammit, Harry!" said Ginny. "No. Now Fred and George will never . . . I mean, George will--"_ _

__She fought back tears. She'd been trying to hide from that._ _

__"Shut up, Weasley," said Millicent, softly. She put the newspaper on the bedside table, and adjusted the ropes so she could pull Ginny up to her hands and knees. "There," she said, working the thing out of Ginny's arse. And that hurt so much coming out, and she felt so strangely empty after it was out, that it kept her from feeling anything else._ _

__"Nice and wide," said Millicent, probing into Ginny with her fingers. "Supposed to be charmed to keep you clean back there, and it looks like it was doing its job. Now, let's go downstairs and spend some time with Potter."_ _

__Harry? But no--she'd told him she was going, and told him not to look for her for a month, at least, if she didn't come back sooner. When she got down the stairs, feeling so loose behind that the toy might have fallen out, Millicent dropped one of the hairs Ginny'd given her into a potion, which turned a golden yellow. Was she going to become Harry, and . . . Ginny wasn't sure if she was grateful or disappointed when Millicent gave her the potion to drink._ _

__There was a full length mirror in the room there, and Ginny watched herself turn into Harry. It was, if nothing else, good to see him._ _

__"Bend over," said Millicent, and Ginny bent at the waist, and then watched Harry's face react as Millicent started working something cold and metal into her arse. It was . . . it wasn't the smallest one, she didn't think, but it wasn't the one she'd just had in her. And her arse still ached, but even though it was smaller, there was no way it was going in, not without tearing something._ _

__Millicent gave a curious sort of hum, stopped trying, and switched to a smaller one. This one did get in, but it was tight; Ginny gasped, and it was the strangest thing in the world to see Harry's face with Ginny's expressions on it._ _

__Millicent tied Ginny's hands behind her back, and then started playing with her cock._ _

__Second strangest thing in the world._ _

__It was uncomfortable, but also sort of urgent. It didn't feel as nice as something on her pussy, and . . . and it hurt like crazy when Millicent squeezed her balls, and . . . Ginny gasped, shook her head._ _

__"Thing is, though," said Millicent. "You have an appointment in four hours in Knockturn Alley, and while some of your conditioning is still working, if you're not wide enough, it's going to hurt a bit. Seems like Potter is a bit of a tight-ass, just like they said."_ _

__"Stay here," said Millicent. "I'll be back soon. Don't touch or drink anything, Weasley."_ _

__She stayed there, and when Millicent came back, she had the toy that she'd used that time Ginny had taken refuge with her during the summer. It did hurt, when she pushed it in, and then it was moving on its own, and then Millicent was behind her, with a little sigh of satisfaction as it clasped on to her._ _

__"First," said Millicent, between thrusts. "I fuck you." Thrust. "Then." Another, harder thrust, "you come." In the mirror, Ginny could see the flush in Millicent's cheeks, the way her hand was trembling. "Then, someone else gets a turn."_ _

__It didn't take too long for Millicent to finish the first part of that. She didn't pull the thing out, when she was done. She had Ginny stand straight, dripped some oil into her hand, and then started jerking her off. It was very strange. Not the heat that she was used to, when she got close like that, but Ginny was having a hard time breathing, and . . ._ _

__And she wasn't sure if she had to pee, or if she was going to burst, and there was this driving, urgent tension there, and Millicent's hand felt so great, moving slickly across her cock. "Come on," said Millicent. "That's a good boy."_ _

__Release was like a vein bursting, almost. Come spattered across her stomach and chest, right up to her chin. Four, five thrusts, and then it was done, and she went from turned on to sore and sensitive, just like that. It wasn't like a proper orgasm--no aftershocks or fluttering muscles, not the usual heat and faint desire for more._ _

__Ginny opened her eyes, so Harry looking back at her, slightly astonished, and a dribblet of come on his chin._ _

__"Very nice," said Millicent. "Least he doesn't have a deformed cock or anything like that--it'd bring the price down. Wouldn't stop people from wanting it, but the Knockturn whores are really want their customers to enjoy the best-known surviving hero of Hogwarts. Speaking of which--tired?"_ _

__Ginny was. She hadn't been, before Millicent had started, but it seemed that orgasms for guys were a lot more draining than for women. "Yes?" she said._ _

__Millicent untied her, and then tied her back up, so that she was lying on her side, hands in front of her, legs together. "Rest up then," she said. "I've got work to do, and you've got a busy night ahead of you."_ _

__The floor wasn't quite as comfortable as her box, and Ginny was tired, but not that tired. She watched Millicent working, separating every hair that Ginny had given her into jewelry boxes, and sealing each one with the Bulstrode crest, a bull's head with a serpent's tongue. Millicent was concentrating hard, and each hair went where she wanted it. She'd always been good with potions, and this was the same sort of thing--careful, precise work, everything exactly measured out, and put where it was supposed to go._ _

__When she was done, she dispelled the ropes holding Ginny in place, and tossed her a robe. "Time to demonstrate the product," she said. "Don't say anything to anyone, and don't fight back if anyone does anything to you. Just pretend like you've been imperiused. Shouldn't be too hard, anyway."_ _

__She reached out, and grabbed Ginny's cock. "And think about sex, Weasley," she said. "Not that they'll let you stay soft for long, but it's best to give a good first impression."_ _

__It wasn't too hard, given the places that Millicent took her. Back alleys and velvet rooms, men and women who weighed Ginny--weighed Harry, because it was only the body they were interested in, after all. Ginny had her throat probed until she gagged, measurements taken of her cock and how much her arse could hold, and width of her neck and wrists and ankles and all that. And Millicent sold off Harry's hairs, getting dozens of galleons for each hair._ _

__By the time they were done, Ginny had been poked and prodded in every imaginable way--one lady had gotten Ginny's cock hard, and then stuck something down it, which was . . . clearly, people did that, and presumably they did it for fun, but Ginny absolutely could not see the fun in that--and Millicent had banked more than ten thousand galleons for the little clump of hair that Ginny had brought along._ _

__"Well," she said, after selling the last of them. "Potter'll be getting a few more knowing looks, here and there, but I imagine most of those are going onto back shelves, for a hundred plus a ride. Could be you'll want one or two of those yourselves, when you get to your golden years--little juice, and you can fuck a nice smooth Potter, instead of a wrinkly gray one."_ _

__"Uh," said Ginny. She hadn't really given much thought to how those things would get used, but it seemed Millicent understood the industry pretty well._ _

__"That, or maybe Potter just wants to look down and see himself sucking his cock," Millicent added._ _

__"I, um, I don't think he does?" said Ginny. "He's more--"_ _

__"Do not care," said Millicent. "And frankly, you have better things to do with your time than think. One last stop, then home."_ _

__The last stop was the alley behind the Bent Wand, which was apparently a pub right at the end of Knockturn Alley. Which was dark, and smelled foul. And where Gregory Goyle was waiting, looking a bit anxious._ _

__"Finally, Bulstrode," he said, when Millicent showed up. "I was starting to think that this was another prank by. . ." he caught sight of Ginny, and his eyes widened. "Potter? Are you serious? We'll get in trouble."_ _

__Millicent gave a disappointed sort of shake of her head. "It's some muggle who's going to wake up with a sore head and fond memories," she said. "But come on--" she pushed Ginny forward, so that she was bent at the waist, pulled up her robe. "Haven't you wanted to stick it between the creamy white thighs of the saviour of the wizarding world? If it weren't for him, you and Crabbe and Malfoy would be living like princes. Go on; show him how you feel."_ _

__"But I thought it was a muggle who--"_ _

__Ginny had to fight back a giggle as Millicent sighed. "You're not that stupid, Goyle. Nobody is that stupid. Just fuck him."_ _

__Then he was pushing into Ginny, and she wasn't fighting back giggles anymore._ _

__Millicent had been putting stuff in her butt basically since she'd showed up there, and half the prostitutes of the wizarding world had been checking to see just how much Harry's body could take up there, but this was different._ _

__There were times when they'd been prodding at her that it had felt more than just uncomfortable. But this was fucking, and it was . . . there was something about it that was way more interesting than any time she'd had stuff up her arse whatever body she’d had. It was a bit like needing a piss, almost, and it hurt, but it was also. . . She was gasping with each thrust, and Millicent pulled her chin up, looked in her eyes, and smiled._ _

__"Seems like you found the spot, Goyle," she said. "That's it--sort of treatment Potter deserves, really."_ _

__Ginny moaned, longing for some sort of pressure on her cock, and Millicent moved to stand next to her, and then her blunt, warm fingers found Ginny, and there was that slippery urgency, heightened by what Goyle was doing. "Go on," said Millicent, softly, and Ginny did, her arse full, Goyle's hips pressing into hers, Millicent's hand tight on her cock. And then, as she was done, gasping for breath, Goyle finished as well, pulling out for the last few spurts, so they fell on her lower back, hot and wet and sticky._ _

__"Nice, Bulstrode," he said. "Have you got any of the others?"_ _

__"Well," she said. "Tell you what. Come back tomorrow, and I'll have a Ginny Weasley for you."_ _

__And she did. Ginny had to suck Gregory Goyle right up until he was about to come, and then turn around and give him her ass, with Millicent leaning against the wall next to them, and grinning the whole time. But then, after she'd given Ginny a scrubbing, inside and out, Millicent had tied her up and fucked her thoroughly, for like two hours. When she was done, Ginny wasn't sure exactly how long she'd spent sleeping in her box, but it was a hell of a long time._ _

__It went on like that for a while, but just when Ginny started to think about missing home, Millicent pulled her out of her box, and tied her up downstairs, where the signet ring she'd used to seal the boxes of Harry's hairs was glowing oddly bright._ _

__"I do like having pretty things, kept properly in their places," she said, more to herself than to Ginny. "But I don't get to keep all of you, do I?"_ _

__Ginny had squirmed at the idea of pretty things, kept properly in their places, but she shook her head at that. "Sorry?" she said._ _

__"Shush," said Millicent. She tapped Ginny's cheek, and she could feel the heat coming from the ring._ _

__"Still, everyone else who gets you will know who claimed you first." She ran her finger down Ginny’s cheek. "Not there--I don't want to be abducted by kelpies every time I take a vacation, God--"_ _

__"Kelpies?" said Ginny. "I thought it was moles."_ _

__Millicent slapped her face, not nearly as hard as she could, but hard enough that it rattled her. "Moles was last week," she said. "Now it's kelpies. Potter told the Quibbler that it was even more plausible than the mole theory. But whatever it is that keeps abducting you, I don't want to show up in the gossip column every week."_ _

__Her hand went lower, following Ginny's neck, down to her shoulder, then her breast. "Maybe here," she said, her finger trailing around Ginny's nipple, working it to stiffness. "Something to explain to the nurses, when the babies start coming."_ _

__Ginny gave a wordless little whine, and Millicent's finger went lower, ribs and belly and hips, down--_ _

__"Inner thigh, maybe," said Millicent. "Discreet. You could fuck people, and they wouldn't even know."_ _

__She pinched Ginny's outer labia, held it. "Or here," she said. "That would be--"_ _

__"Please?" said Ginny._ _

__"Hmm?"_ _

__"Over," she said. "Right just over my clit? Please?"_ _

__A genuine, satisfied smile, from Millicent. "Right here?" she said, tracing the spot. Just over Ginny's pussy. Just there._ _

__"Please?" said Ginny._ _

__"It's going to hurt, you know," said Millicent. "When I burn it in, and when I want it to hurt. Are you sure?"_ _

__"Please," said Ginny. And then she screamed, kicked against her bonds, kept screaming. It hurt like anything; it was terrible, and . . . and Millicent was standing back out of range, smiling, a slight bit of concern in her eyes. Ginny calmed, tried to stand still. But it hurt!_ _

__"Want a look?" asked Millicent._ _

__Ginny nodded, blinked away her tears, as Millicent held up a mirror. It had felt like it was burning, and it still felt a bit like it was burning, but it didn't look like a burn. It was a neat little bull's head, with the serpent's tongue dipping down, almost touching the top of her clit's hood._ _

__"It's beautiful," she said._ _

__"Yes," said Millicent. She twisted the ring, and Ginny gasped; it was like something had pricked her there, but there was no blood. "And now it's time to wrap you up and send you back home."_ _

__Fortunately, Harry was alone when the packing crate appeared on his doorstep, and it seemed that his defenses against spying were good enough that Ginny didn't have to explain to anyone else why she was tied up in a packing crate, with metal cocks pulsing in her arse, cunt and mouth, and a Bulstrode brand on her pubic mound._ _

__She did try to explain it to Harry, and though he was pretty good-natured about it, he didn't entirely seem to understand._ _

__During the course of the explanations, Harry got her into one of his old school robes, which was far too big on her, and made her a pot of tea._ _

__"Well," he said, when she was done. "At least it wasn't moles."_ _

__"Harry!" said Ginny. "It's just--I cant--"_ _

__"It's fine," he said. "You look good."_ _

__Ginny flushed._ _

__"And not just . . . like that. You look happy and relaxed and--" He reached out, and ran his finger across her forehead. "Like you put down some of the weight you were carrying. Whatever it is that does that, I'm in favor. Moles or seaweed, or Bulstrode."_ _

__Ginny pulled him in and kissed him, trying to fight back tears. "I love you," she said._ _

__"I love you too," said Harry._ _

__"And you're not jealous?"_ _

__"Well, maybe a little," said Harry. "And, you know, I missed you. But it's worth it, to see you like this."_ _

__Ginny kissed him again. "Thank you, Harry."_ _

__And that was why, when Harry and Ginny got married, Millicent Bulstrode sent them an oak chest, an exact copy of the one she kept in her room, a selection of boxes stamped with the Bulstrode crest, and a length of coiled green rope. Given the sort of people they knew, it was far from the oddest gift that they got. Hermione's parents, for instance, sent them a device that was supposed to melt cheese or chocolate, and then they were supposed to dip things--it had a lot of small parts and oddly-shaped forks, anyway._ _

__From time to time, Harry used the box, and the rope, and the toys that Millicent had sent along inside Ginny that first time. But not with quite as much enthusiasm or inventiveness as Millicent, and that was fine, more than fine. The way he looked at her, the way he touched her--it went straight to her heart._ _

__But there were times when she wanted to be looked at differently, so she made arrangements, and showed up at Millicent's doorstep. And Millicent always let her in. It got a little more complicated after Millicent married Orphne Burke, but more complicated wasn't at all worse--Orphne's cool, amused contempt was. . . stimulating? And there were times when Millicent would crack that cool, and leave the two of them panting, on fire with need and squeezed into the box, and there were times when Orphne and Millicent would take turns with her, and . . . complicated was not at all worse._ _

__Same thing when Millicent started teaching potions at Hogwarts. She didn't have quite as much time to play, then, but there were times when Ginny was tied up under her desk, during lectures, or transfigured into a statuette that she kept on her desk. And then there was the testing and grading of student potions._ _

__Ginny never needed it quite so badly as she had those three times. But when she did need it, she knew that Millicent Bulstrode would give her sanctuary, if only because she liked having pretty things, kept properly in their places._ _


End file.
